Eve: Drink Of Me (F&L Story #2)

Eve: Part 17

Part 17

May 26, 2010.  Wednesday.  2:30 a.m.

Clint wasn't sure what to expect when Eve emerged from the bedroom, but the beautiful, heavenly woman that approached him took his breath away.  She should wear purple every day.  The color and sheen of the silk pajamas set off the brilliance of her eyes, and the camisole fitted around her perfect breasts and slender waist ideally.  Normally, he assumed that blue was her color, being that her blue eyes would stand out in her stunning, heart-shaped face, but no, the soft shade of purple gave her luminous orbs a grandeur that no other color of the spectrum could accomplish.

“Still hungry?” he asked, drawing her into his embrace.

“I am,” she said plainly, and he blinked down at her.  Surely, she wasn't too upset for what he did to her earlier?  He apologized and promised to make it up to her.  Hoping to lighten her mood, he said, “Maybe you'll change your mind after you've tasted my cooking.”

“I'll let you know,” she said, smiling in response, and his heart loosened its choke-hold in his chest.  He gave her a soft kiss that she returned halfheartedly, which frightened him a little.  He'd have to restrain himself...give her time to recoup.  He didn't know how he could, but she deserved it.  She deserved so much more than he could ever give her.  So much more than him.

Which pissed him off.  He'd been a bastard, but he couldn't turn back the clock and make love to her as she was meant to be loved.  She should have that at least.

“Sit, sit,” he urged her to the small table where he set out her meal with as much flamboyance as the little cabin provided.  “I'll get your coffee.”

“Thank you,” she said, sitting gingerly on the padded seat.  Clint cringed.  He could imagine the aches and pains she suffered because of him.  What the hell had been wrong with him?

He poured her coffee and sat across from her.  He cleared his throat, and decided to get this out before the guilt suffocated him.  “Eve, I want to talk about tonight, if you don't mind?”

She said nothing, only took a bite of pancake and glanced up at him.  He rubbed the side of his nose and picked his words carefully.  “I was wrong to use you like that.  I'm sorry.  And, uh...I think you should know more about where I was coming from...”

He paused to see if she had anything to supply to the conversation.  Eve chewed and kept silent.  Okay...where to start?  “My mother and sister died in a fire when I was young,” he began, and for the next half hour, he told her about his life, not sugarcoating any of the evil memories that haunted him everyday.  She said nothing, and when her pancakes were gone, she sat back in her chair, cradling her cup of coffee, and listened.  Winding down, he said, “I didn't want you to be the remedy for my addiction...”

“Neither do I,” she commented for the first time.  He blanched.  She sighed and put down her cup.  “Clint, I understand.  I do...but I think that you have issues that you need to work out, and I'm afraid that I'm just becoming a part of your problem, rather than helping.”

This was not sounding good, he thought, frowning at the table.  In fact, this was sounding a lot like good-bye.  But she had a point, and he told her that.  “I think you're right.  I want to be with you, but not like this.  But I don't know if I'll ever be to a place in my life when I can endure the death of a person without wanting to wash the failure away with alcohol.”

“I'm not asking you to be that person, Clint,” she said sadly.  “But I can't be another habit for you.    You can't drown your pain to make it go away.  Life is pain.  You have to welcome it.  You don't need me to help you fight your demons.  You can do it all on your own, and with people who know what you're going through.  I have faith in you.  You are strong, you are stubborn, and you are good, Clint.”  She bit her lip, took a deep breath and gazed directly at him when she said, “And I think you shouldn't confuse gratitude for love.”